


Louis Slept

by Cottontail



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Blood Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prince Lestat, Sleep snuggling, Threesome - M/M/M, Unconsciousness, Voyeurism, Watching Someone Sleep, blood communion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottontail/pseuds/Cottontail
Summary: Louis took a while to wake up, post-events in Prince Lestat: Blood Communion.Lestat waits and worries through the hours until he does, and David is there to help.A lot of comforting and blood sharing ensues.SPOILERS for Blood Communion, obviously.And I think I want to be extra careful and WARN that while Louis sleeps there is some cuddling and kissing on him.
Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/David Talbot, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac/David Talbot, Louis de Pointe du Lac/David Talbot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Louis Slept

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say I'm pretty proud of this one, but then I might regret it in a few days when I read it again and hate it. So at this moment, before I post this, I'm proud of it. 
> 
> I don't write this vamp blood-sharing sex type stuff often. It took a long time to get it all just right and try to stay true to Lestat's voice. I hope it comes across as vividly as it is in my imagination. ;) 
> 
> Lestat/Louis/David = Love.

I want to tell you about what happened after the rescue. The truth is, Louis didn’t wake up right away after we returned to the chateau. There was a brief welcome back crowd and a few speeches from Marius to the gathered blood drinkers. But I returned to my rooms quickly after that, anxious to see how Louis was. Gregory said he’d not woken once on the flight home. This troubled me greatly. Gabrielle and Marius seemed almost back to their usual selves already, why wasn’t Louis?

In my rooms I found Fareed and Seth, who were just placing Louis on the plush king-sized bed. Now I’m a materialistic bastard, so it would be remiss of me not to describe this bed to you. This bed is extravagant, as you might expect. An antique four-poster canopy, made of dark cherry wood in the Baroque style. It has crushed velvet curtains of midnight-blue hanging from all sides, to keep darkness in, and light out. The covers are a violet-blue and heavy. The pillows plush and plenty. It’s truly a treasure of solitude and comfort, this bed. 

When I entered, Seth was just laying Louis out, adjusting his head to rest on a pillow, and brushing a lock of dark hair off his forehead, arranging the blanket over him. It was a bit foreign to see someone other than myself, or even David, handling Louis with such a tenderness, and it fascinated me to watch. It seemed Seth and Fareed were both trying to listen to Louis’ thoughts or dreams within his unconscious mind, for they each had a focused look about them as they stared down at that handsome sleeping face.

“What do you hear?” I asked, hating the way my voice broke the silence of the room. Seth glanced over, seeming to just recognize I was there with them. 

“Just jumbled images.” Fareed answered. “Nothing logical. Gardens, the stars, a child laughing, blood.” 

I took a deep breath and tried not to read into any of those images. The unconscious mind is mercurial. 

Fareed continued, “He will recover. I think he just needs more time than the others.” 

Seth stepped away from the bed and came to me. I was immensely grateful suddenly that he was here. He was the eldest of us all. He would know if anything truly debilitating had happened to Louis. “He will be fine, my Prince. We are creatures born to violence and horrors. We experience these things and we grow from them. He will wake, process through it, heal.” 

“It’s my fault,” I muttered to myself. 

“It is.”

Well that was a harsh little jab I hadn’t expected; but it was Seth, and he didn’t sugarcoat truth. He reached out and touched my arm to soften the blow. “We told you to kill Rhoshamandes, and we didn’t take that lightly. We knew he would do this sort of thing. And after Benedict’s violent death in your very company, of course he was going to go after those you love.” He glanced back at the unconscious Louis. I realized that Louis’ boots were off and sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. One of them must have removed them before tucking him beneath the covers.

“I regret,” Seth continued, “that we ourselves didn’t consider keeping closer watch on Louis. Of course Rhosh would go after him most aggressively. He knew that would be your Achilles heel.”

Guilt. A thing I am very familiar with. I pushed it away, couldn’t deal with it right now.

“You go lay with him,” Fareed said. “He’ll know you’re there and wake up faster.” He gave my arm a light squeeze and they exited the room.

I toed off my own boots and removed the heavy cloak, tossing it over a nearby chair. I climbed onto the bed and stretched out on his right side, sliding an arm beneath the pillow under his head, and placing my other hand on his chest, feeling the gentle slow beat of his heart. How often did we sleep this way, in this very bed? Safe and at peace. I kissed his temple and whispered words of comfort. He remained silent. Dead to the world. 

Outside a storm was blowing in. I could hear the distant roll of thunder, the light tap of rain drops against the thick-paned glass windows, steady and growing strong. When it would rain like this I was vividly transported back to childhood. All the sounds and smells so familiar. The wet stones, the drip and rush of the rain along the battlements and towers. The clean smell of wet grassland outside. The wind blowing through the valleys and into the little town below.

I felt alone.

I stared at Louis, willing him to wake. I allowed the guilt to wash over me; wallowed in the heavy shame of it. And when it drained into something manageable, I allowed anger at Rhoshamandes to fill its place. I fantasized that I had tortured him a little more before killing him. But the truth was, I didn’t know if he’d done anything extra to Louis that he hadn’t done to Marius and my mother. He may very well have just snapped Louis’ neck, wrapped him in iron, and left him in that dungeon room. And Louis, being Louis, would of course take hours longer to recover from it.

The rain was driving hard against the windows. I could hear the rest of the Chateau settling quietly into their places for the evening. Distant, muffled voices in the other chambers. Barbara, my personal servant, came in silently and did mouse-like things around the room, then exited just as silent. The fire crackled and sparked in the hearth. A clock ticked on the bookcase. Louis slept.

I lay still beside him and stared. His sharply drawn eyebrows, the perfect bones of his face, the soft curve to his lower-lip. Was that blood on his collar? I think an hour passed, and then another. He still slept. My heart broke a little more.

I couldn’t stay here all night with him. Gregory was coming within the hour to go over boring council work that I had thus far avoided. Somehow, I found my phone within arm’s reach and pushed the little letters to send a text to David.

“Come here.”

It was rude not to add a “please” to it, but I honestly hate texting. He knew me well enough. His response was immediate, and just as short.

“Of course.” 

He must have been near already, because suddenly he was just there beside the bed, looking down on us with those tiger-gold eyes. Let me describe David’s eyes to you now. For I have glamorized the beauty of Louis’ green eyes enough to have caused the general public, of both the mortal and vampire world, to see the color green at the mere mention of his name. 

David’s eyes are no less opulent. They are mostly black, you see, but at the center and when the light flashes in them, or when his mood changes to that of violence or passion, they are infused in a golden-amber light. The nearest comparison I have is that of a wild cat’s or a wolf’s eyes. Gold and black. They are no less distracting than Louis’ eyes. I marvel sometimes, that I am able to create such eyes with my blood. Half the thrill of making a fledgling is seeing the colors the dark gift paints their eyes.

David stood there now, his patient and strong presence a balm to my churning emotions. I lifted my head and gestured for him to join us. “I need you to lay with him. I have to get up and do things.”

He sighed and imperceptibly rolled his eyes. “What could you possibly have to do?” But he was taking off his shoes, his coat, his tie, unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress-shirt and rolling up the sleeves. He climbed smoothly beneath the covers, stretching out along the other side of Louis. All of this done with the fluid familiarity of a lover.

“I do things.” I whispered over Louis’ head to him. But it was not a challenge or a rebuke. It was a bravado that he and I both knew was false. He smiled dismissively at me, his head on the pillow beside Louis. He focused entirely on Louis, touching the soft curl of his hair, running a gentle finger along his forehead, down one cheekbone, and along his jawline. He placed a kiss against the black silk hair at his temple and whispered the sweetest words possible. 

He really is like a Bengal tiger, my David. A dark dominating predator with razor intelligence behind his eyes. You can feel that near-menacing strength the moment he enters a room. I’m really quite proud of myself for creating him. But under that natural menace is this tenderness. This gentle demeanor that I’ve seen him use to his advantage in many situations. Lulling victims into trust and acceptance before he strikes; sometimes with a brutal violence that even I’m shocked by. However, with Louis he is never aggressive. Never.

David and Louis were undeniably intertwined for eternity the moment they’d met. I won’t lie. When I first witnessed this heated affection between them, I was overwhelmed with jealousy. But my inability to define which one of them I was most jealous over confused my senses. Enough so that the jealousy eventually burned out. Also, it’s just an extreme turn-on to witness them together. 

Louis rarely lets passion rule his world, but when David is around, he visibly warms. I can’t find another word for it, dear reader. He warms, melts even, to David; in ways I have to work at to elicit from him myself. David calls it chemistry. I think it’s just that David is exactly Louis’ type. Tall, dark, beautiful, a book-worm, educated, cultured, polite to a fucking annoying fault. He ticks all the boxes, you see? 

I knew it. I knew it the entire time I pestered David while he was still mortal, the Superior General for the Talamasca. It’s the reason I kept Louis away from him, and the reason I didn’t speak of Louis to David during that time. It’s the reason I bristled any time either of them queried me about the other one. I knew damn well they would be absolutely in love the minute they met. But once I brought David over, all bets were off. I couldn’t possibly keep them separate; they were brothers.

Now, David talked to Louis as if he were awake to hear it all. He told him how bereft he’d been at the loss of Louis. How he’d been miserable, lodged between grief and anger for weeks. He told Louis to never do that to us again. For a millisecond I thought I saw a reaction in Louis. A slight dip to his brow. How I wanted that to be true, and for those green eyes to open again, but he remained still. David was unfazed, and continued talking softly; as if I was not there at all.

I leaned over Louis and kissed David’s head, and then his cheek, and then his mouth. It was slow, filled with need and all the pent-up emotion of the past few weeks. I felt his hand sliding into my hair, and fist it into an almost painful knot. Trying to anchor us; perhaps take the lead from me. Well, that’s just what I felt. Maybe he was simply returning the kiss with no ulterior motive at all. But it’s always a bit aggressive between us, you see. We both fight for dominance over the other, and neither gives in. Louis tends to find this amusing, or sometimes just irritating enough to get up and walk out on us. But now he’s silent. Unconscious. Missing the show. 

David bit my tongue sharply. In a heated flush, lust for the both of them flooded me, and I had to crush it back down. I pulled away, licking the blood from my lips and glaring at him for doing that. He smirked. Yes, a thing one doesn’t expect from David Talbot, but he does it. I’m telling you he does that crap all the time with me. I wanted to fight him suddenly, but it was the wrong place for such juvenile acts. 

I climbed from the bed, satisfied that Louis was in loving hands. David never used such tactics with Louis. Quite the opposite. He was the gentlest lover with Louis. And I will admit to you that I watch them more often than I join in, because it’s just so enthralling and almost more enjoyable than watching Louis kill. 

Now I was working myself up thinking about it, because David had bitten me, I tasted the blood, the monster in me knew what that could lead to. And David had done this on purpose. He knew exactly how to play me and it was infuriating. Again, a thing he manipulated into being. 

I stomped across the room and sat down heavily at the large mahogany table I did all my work at these nights. I tried to focus on the papers spread out there for my signature. Barbara must have left them. There were files with labels like, New Construction, Township concerns, Grounds and Gardens. I shuffled them around on the table, scraped the chair across the floor as I moved it closer. Found a pen and tried not to crush it in my fingers.

Across the room, David was enraptured with Louis beneath the heavy covers. Completely claiming him as his own. Running hands through his black hair, arranging him so they were face to face. Whispering words of love against his forehead and kissing him softly. It’s entirely possible he’s more in love with him than I am. And that’s no mean feat, dear reader. Finally, he settled into a quiet pose and just held him, eyes closed, one hand along Louis’ throat, a thumb on his pulse. I could easily imagine the steady thump of a heartbeat under the pad of his thumb. David’s golden eyes squinted open and fixed on me. Challenging. 

The violent lust threatened to rear its head again. 

Luckily there was a knock at the door. I sent a mental message for the person to enter. 

It was Gregory, and he was all business tonight. Files and notepads in hand as he entered and headed straight for the table where I sat, but not before noticing David and Louis entangled on the bed. He raised a brow and came to the table, taking a chair nearby. “So how do you work with that in front of you?”

“Not well,” I muttered. I was irritated with David, but couldn’t explain why, and perhaps Gregory took it as annoyance I had to do all this busy work when I would rather be over there with them. Which was true as well.

“I’ll try to make if fast.” He opened the first folder and started explaining what it was, where to sign. We had gotten through maybe half the pile before I realized something. Gregory had gone silent. He placed a hand on the documents I was scribbling my name across, and made a subtle head tilt towards the bed. 

Louis was awake. He and David whispering intimately back and forth. David told him to go back to sleep. Louis responded in a voice that was still hoarse and thick. I couldn’t make it out. David bit into his own wrist and Louis latched on. I could smell the blood and almost taste it myself. Louis made a very soft needy sound as he drew that rich heated elixir in.

I sensed a telepathic note from Gregory that we could finish these signatures tomorrow night, and he moved to leave. But I grabbed his sleeve and held him there. “No. Stay. Watch this.” He sat again. I knew he wasn’t shocked by this order. He’d served in the court of Akasha, the queen of blood orgies. Truth be told, I don’t know what made me want him there to witness with me. Just that I had a desire to show this off to someone. See? See this amazing, intense, beautiful thing I get to watch?

Minutes passed and the scene played out before us. I was entranced, as I always am when they do this. Louis let go of David’s wrist, licking the blood from his lips, eyes tightly shut. David kissed him, sensual, moving from blood-stained lips, down the line of his jaw, savoring, and lingering at his throat, then back up. Louis’ long fingers tangled in David’s hair, their bodies moving beneath the covers. Though obviously nothing sexual was going on, there is still an instinct, a hardwired human drive left in us. 

Louis made sounds that dug into the pit of my gut; not quite groans, but a heavy breathing, need, lust. Beneath the onslaught of rain pelting against the windows I could just barely make out David's voice, low, seductive. “Louis... Louis... Louis.” Louis lifted his head to capture the kiss again, only to be denied; his dark brows drawn in annoyance. David, a sly grin on his face, acquiesced, and it all began again. The blood exchange, the whispered desperate words, the hunger satisfied repeatedly until Louis passed out. David wrapped the velvet of the blanket tightly around them both and nuzzled against Louis’ throat. Those gold eyes darted over to me, but this time it wasn’t challenge I read in them; it was simply contentment. His eyes closed and sleep overcame him as well. 

I suddenly remembered Gregory, and looked to him for what I expected to be a truly enchanted or lustful reaction, only to find his gaze was not fixed on the bed at all, but rather on me. The room seemed suddenly silent to me, despite the thunderstorm outside.

His smile was amused. “You do make beautiful children. I’ll give you that.” 

“Is that all?” I asked, though I was proud of this observation. But come on! That passionate display? How was he not breathless right now? I took the fountain pen back up and prepared to sign again, slightly irritated.

“You’re blessed that they are so enamored with one another. That’s rare. More commonly, fledglings are trying to kill each other.”

“Not all my fledglings are this way.” I muttered, shoving one of the documents over to him and reaching for the next one. I scanned it quickly. “Why am I having to sign off on a new greenhouse for the town? Why does this need my name on it?”

“They want more vegetables for the construction workers. They like good health. May I give you some advice on fledglings, my Prince?”

“Whatever.” I waved a hand and signed off on the greenhouse.

“Don’t make the mistake of assuming they don’t need you.”

“What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes at him. He was facing me fully, one arm resting casually on the back of his chair, the other on the table.

He gestured towards the bed, “You almost lost one of them. The other one mourned alone. Where were you?”

I felt accused. But I couldn’t argue it. I had been woefully absent from both Louis and David since becoming the Prince. Distracted by the Court and all the work that went into it. I knew that. Wonderful! More guilt for me.

“They’re not children.” I countered. It was a weak argument. Childish, even.

“They are. Actually, you all are.” 

_Says the man who is like a billion years old._

He read that thought, and laughed. 

“Let me get all this work out of your way. We will do this tomorrow.” He packed up everything, including what Barbara had left out for me. He leaned down and kissed my head, like a grandparent or a patient adult. I examined myself for feelings of being patronized, but couldn’t find any. He was halfway across the room when he stopped, approached the bed, and leaned down to place the same gentle kiss on Louis’ and then David’s head. His parting smile to me was genial and held some secret that I couldn’t define. 

“Good night, Prince.” 

After he’d left, I remained where I was, watching them sleep. The rain waned then picked up again; the wind pelting it hard against the walls of the chateau. The fire had burned down to embers. I felt alone. How easily this happens when others are not around for me to reflect off of. I am a true extrovert.

Louis opened his eyes and looked around sluggishly, coming to rest on me. I smiled, because he was tousled, and sleepy, and so achingly beautiful to me. Both of them were. David’s dark sable hair mixed with Louis’ ink black on the pillow between them. I stood and went to them, climbing as unobtrusively as possible onto the bed, back in my original and rightful place, on the other side of Louis.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi.” 

David slept.

“Are you okay?” Stupid, simple question, but I couldn’t think what else to say.

He seemed to think about it. He turned a bit, so that he was facing more towards me. Lightning struck directly outside the chateau, and his eyes flashed a painfully beautiful shade of emerald. We waited for the thunder, and it rattled the windows a moment later.

“I don’t remember anything,” he whispered.

“Are you lying to me?” 

Confusion crossed his face. “Why would I?” A small dimple appeared above one finely drawn eyebrow and then smoothed again. I reached a finger out and touched where it had been. 

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I know. You aren’t to blame.” He lifted his head and kissed softly beneath my chin, and then my lips. I could taste David’s blood on him; on his lips, his tongue. I moaned. His entire body stretched and pressed against mine, every muscle tight then relaxed. My hands slid down along his sides and then back up into his hair, drinking in this kiss. I could hear and feel the blood in him, his heart beating faster. But I could also feel his exhaustion. He ended this kiss between us, eyes shut and then half-mast green, gazing up at me. It was almost more than I could handle; to reel in the rage of desire. I closed my eyes on it, resting my forehead against his, breathing heavily, willing it away. “I really want to do things to you,” I growled. He made a small sound. Something like amusement and empathy. 

“I know you do,” he whispered, and rested back on the pillow. I could see the toll of the past weeks on him. His eyes a little less bright, his face more drawn. I would make him feed extra tomorrow evening. David and I would take him to Paris, to the worst neighborhoods, where the hunting was easy. We gazed at one another for long understanding minutes, calming the blood lust. “Can’t we just sleep now?” He asked. “Will you stay with me; with us?” My heart ached a little at the uncertainty in his voice.

“Of course I will. You don’t have to even ask this.” I stretched out, sliding beneath the blanket with them. 

In the minutes that followed, as Louis fell easily into dreams against me, I contemplated the near loss of him and the eternity of sorrow that would have followed. A hand covered mine beneath the blankets, where it lay atop Louis’ chest. David. I opened my eyes a fraction. He blinked slowly, and I understood the meaning. You are loved. We are safe. 

I slept.

/End


End file.
